But Romeo may not, he is banished.—

O, father, hast thou no strong poison mix'd,

No sharp-ground knife, no sudden means of death. But banishment to torture me withal?

[ Crosses to R.

Lau. (L. C.) Fund madman, hear me speak;
I'll give thee armor to keep off that word,
Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy,

To comfort thee, though thou art banished.
Rom. Yet banished?—Hang up philosophy!
Unless philosophy can make a Juliet,

It helps not, it prevails not! talk no more.

[ Crosses to L.

Lau. Let me dispute with thee of thy estate.

Rom. Thou canst not speak of what thou dost not

feel:

Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love,

An hour but married, Tybalt murdered,

Doting like me, and like me banished,

Then might'st thou speak, then might'st thou tear thy hair,

And fall upon the ground, as I do now,

Taking the measure of an unmade grave.

[Throws himself on the ground R. C.— One knocks without L.

Lau. Arise; one knocks :—Good Romeo, hide

thys lf; Kn cking again L. Who's ther ?—R

meo, ari

e; Thou w lt be ta

en.—S ay awhile.—St nd up:

Who knocks so hard? whence come you? what 's

Enter Nurse L.

Nurse. (l.) O, holy father, tell me, holy friar, Where is my lady's lord? where's Romeo?

Lau. (L.) There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk.

Nurse. O, he is even in my mistress' case,

Just in her case.

O, Juliet, Juliet! (c.)

Rom. (Starts up on his knees.) Speak'st thou of
Juliet? how is it with her,

Since I have stain'd the childhood of our joy,
With blood?

Where is she? how does she? what says she?

Nurse. O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and

weeps,

And now falls on her bed, and then starts up,
And Tybalt cries, and then on Romeo calls,
And then falls down again.

Rom. As if that name,

Shot from the deadly level of a gun,

Did murder her. O, tell me, (Gets up.) friar, tell

me,

In what vile part of this anatomy

Doth my name lodge? tell me, that I may sack
The hateful mansion.

Lau. (Stays his hand.) Hold thy desperate hand:
Art thou a man? thy form cries out thou art;
Thy tears are womanish; thy wild acts denote
Th' unreasonable fury of a beast.

Thou hast amazed me; by my holy order,
I thought thy disposition better temper'd. (r.)
Hast thou slain Tybalt? wilt thou slay thyself?
And slay thy lady, too, that lives in thee?.
What, rouse thee, man! (c.) thy Juliet is alive.
Go, get thee to thy love, as was decreed :
Ascend her chamber; hence, and comfort her;
But look thou stay not till the watch be set,
For then thou canst not pass to Mantua,
Where thou shalt live, till we can find a time
To blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends,
Beg pardon of thy Prince, and call thee back,

With twenty hundred thousand times more joy
Than thou went'st forth in lamentation.

Go before, Nurse. Commend me to thy lady,
And bid her hasten all the house to rest.

Romeo is coming.

Nurse. (l. c.) O Lord, I could have staid here all the night,

To hear good counsel.

O, what learning is! My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come.

Rom. Do so, and bid my sweet prepare to chide. Nurse. Here, sir, a ring she bid me give you, sir.

Hie you, make haste, for it grows very late.

[Exit L. Rom. How well my comfort is revived by this! Lau. (r. c.) Sojourn in Mantua; I'll find out your man,

And he shall signify, from time to time,

Every good hap to you that chances here.

Give me thy hand; 'tis late; farewell; good night.
Rom. But that a joy, past joy, calls out on me,
It were a grief so soon to part with thee.

[Exeunt Romeo L., Laurence R.

Enter Capulet, Lady Capulet, and Paris L.

Cap. (c.) Things have fall'n out, sir, so unluckily,

That we have had no time to move our daughter.
Look you, she loved her kinsman Tybalt dearly,
And so did I.—Well, we were born to die—
'Tis very late; she 'll not come down to-night.
Par. (L.) These times of grief afford no time to

woo.

Madam, good night; commend me to your daugh

ter.

Cap. Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender Of my child's love; I think she will be ruled In all respects by me; nay, more, I doubt it not. But, soft; what day? well, Wednesday is too soon;

On Thursday let it be; you shall be married.
We'll keep no great ado ;—a friend or two;—
For, hark you, Tybalt being slain so late,
It may be thought we held him carelessly,
Being our kinsman, if we revel much.

Therefore we 'll have some half a dozen friends,
And there's an end. But what say you to Thurs-

day?

Par. My lord, I would that Thursday were tomorrow!

Cap. Well, get you gone; on Thursday be it,

then.

Go you to Juliet, ere you go to bed;

Prepare her, wife, against this wedding-day.—

[Exit Lady Capulet R.

Farewell, my lord.—Light to my chamber, ho![Exeunt CAPULET R.,

Good night.

SCENE V.

PARIS L.

Capulet's Garden.—Lamps down.

Enter Romeo and Juliet, with her arms clinging

round his neck L.

Jul. (c.) Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet near day!

It was the nightingale, and not the lark,

That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear;
Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate-tree.

Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.

Rom. (c.) It was the lark, the herald of the

morn,

No nightingale. Look, love, what envious streaks
Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east:
Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day
Stands tip-toe on the misty mountain tops;
I must be gone and live, or stay and die.

Jul. Yon light is not day-light, I know it well;
It is some meteor that the sun exhales,
To be to thee this night a torch-bearer,
And light thee on thy way to Mantua.
Then stay awhile; thou shalt not go so soon.
Rom. Let me be ta'en, let me be put to death;

I am content, if thou wilt have it so.
I'll say, yon grey is not the morning's eye,
'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow;
I'll say, 'tis not the lark, whose notes do beat
The vaulty heaven so high above our heads;
Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so.—
What says my love? let's talk, it is not day.
Jul. (R. C.) It is, it is; hie hence, away, be
It is the lark that sings so out of tune,
Straining harsh discords, and unpleasing sharps.
O, now be gone; more light and light it grows.
Rom. More light and light?—more dark and dark

our woes.

gone;

Farewell, my love;—one kiss, and I'll be gone.

Enter Nurse L.

Nurse. Madam.

Jul. Nurse?

[Exit Romeo R.

Nurse. Your lady mother 's coming to your cham

ber;

The day is broke; be wary, look about. [Exit L. Jul. Art thou gone so ?—Love! lord! ah, husfriend!

band

Re-enter Romeo R.

I must hear from thee every day i' the hour;
For in love's hours there are many days.
O! by this count I shall be much in years,
Ere I again behold my Romeo.

Rom. (c.) Farewell! I will omit no opportunity That may convey my greetings to thee, love.

Jul. (c.) O, think'st thou we shall ever meet again?

Rom. I doubt it not; and all these woes shall

serve

For sweet discourses in our time to come.

Jul. O, heaven! I have an ill-divining soul : Methinks, I see thee, now thou 'rt parting from me, As one dead in the bottom of a tomb;

Either my eye-sight fails, or thou look'st pale. Rom. And trust me, love, in my eye so do you;